


Some Nights

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst with resolution, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 00:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4686149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by/based on the song “Some Nights” by Fun. You can hear the song here: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQkBeOisNM0">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQkBeOisNM0</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights

Trowa sighed and let his eyes drift open. There was no point in denying the fact that he was not going to sleep any time soon. The darkness around him was comforting in its familiarity. Without any effort he could make out the dim shape of his dresser. The desk and chair, the only other furniture in his small room, melded with the shadows in the far corner. Patchy moonlight came through a thin crack in the curtains that covered the single small window.

He took in a slow breath then blew it out as he rolled over onto his back. The ceiling was a dark mass above his head. The lack of stars, bright pinpricks of light, hit him like a physical weight and he rubbed his hand across his face. There would be no rest for the weary or the wicked and even less for those that were both.

_Ten years._

The words swirled through his mind leaving a white hot contrail behind them. Ten years since he had walked away to find himself and start living his life. And yet here he was, once again, examining his life for meaning instead of sleeping. He wasn’t sure where he had lost his way or if he had even had one. Maybe all he’d ever really had was a goal and once that was accomplished there was nothing else left.

Restless, he kicked off the blankets and sat up, head in his hands. Here he was, twenty six years old with the future spreading out ahead of him and the glory of victory behind and yet he was lost in a way that he had never been before. Not even as a nameless kid surviving on the kindness of men who lived on the razor's edge of fate.

A sob broke the silence of the room and Trowa jerked his head up, eyes searching for the source of the sound. It wasn’t a second one added to the last echoes of sound that he realized it had come from him. A flash of memory was wrenched up with the force of a punch to the gut and he could see himself once again as if he was a spectator in his own life. His tears were falling, but he felt nothing; just a hollow shell of a person was what he had always been and would always be.

Pulling in on himself he toppled over to lay in a fetal position on the narrow bed, shaking as the pain rolled through him bringing with it the tears he fought so hard not to shed. They followed each other the way the thunder heralded the arrival of rain. Even as a new wave smashed into him a new sensation made itself known. Almost ghost like, as if the past had reached through the ether to the present there was the feeling of strong arms wrapping around him and sheltering him from the worst of the storm.

“Trowa, love, come back to me.” The words were calm and gentle, but carried with them an undeniable authority that Trowa knew he had to obey no matter what it cost him. Holding onto them he forced himself to uncurl and open his eyes.

Gone was tiny room, replaced by the familiar bedroom he’d shared with Quatre for the past six years. Despite the dimness Trowa could make out the concern on Quatre’s features and the way he was studying Trowa’s face. Letting out the breath he was holding in a watery sigh, Trowa buried his face in the soft skin at the junction of Quatre’s shoulder and neck. As bone deep ache began to recede let himself melt into the truth of his reality.


End file.
